


Languages

by Fabelhaft (Blue_Blood_Monarch)



Series: MCU Bingo [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bingo Trope, Bucky is a little shit, Fluff, M/M, Polyglot!Bucky, Polyglot!Tony, Prompt Is Language Fic, Tony Stark Appreciation, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, i think, idk what this is, it's meant to be cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 22:38:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16293158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Blood_Monarch/pseuds/Fabelhaft
Summary: Tony may or may not have an appreciation for Bucky speaking Russian which may or may not lead to a game between them which involves Bucky testing how many languages Tony can speak.And, of course, because it's our two favourite idiots we're talking about, it all goes bottoms up.Do enjoy, darlings.





	Languages

**Author's Note:**

> Another Bingo fic! 
> 
> Okay, so, before you read:
> 
> 1) Tony has a panic attack, so read at your discretion. :)
> 
> 2) All translations have been done by good ol' Google Translate so, yes, they're probably not perfect! 
> 
> Other than that, enjoy the fic I smashed out in like 20 mins lmao.
> 
> Its really not edited btw so.... be kind :/

People always said that learning a language was one of most challenging things you could do in life, but they had always come easily to Tony. He’d always sought to acquire a new language like one might acquire a new pair of shoes. Something about them fascinated him, something about the way you could express yourself in such different ways with each language seeming so beautiful to him.

 

He had his favourites, of course. All through his life Italian had always had a special place in his heart, always associating it with his mother, Maria. To his ears, it was as beautiful as she.

 

But then he had met Barnes, who had a habit of grumbling to himself in Russian, more often than not with some of the most colourful language Tony had ever heard spoken in that guttural, mysterious language.

 

At first Barnes didn’t realise that Tony understood him, after all, Tony’s mastery of the many languages he spoke wasn’t common knowledge, and Tony was content with that. It allowed Barnes a freedom in the language to express himself, and in those moments Tony was witness to the most personality he had seen from the man.

 

Unfortunately he gave himself away when, in the helicarrier after a particularly gross mission involving an unfortunate amount of sticky alien slime, he didn’t manage to cover his snicker at Barnes’ amusing grumblings. "Лучше бы у меня после этого кожа была как после спа-салона, а то я нахер убью Стива за то, что притащил сюда."  _This had better work miracles for my skin or I'm going to fucking murder Steve for dragging me out here_.

 

He couldn’t help the small, almost unnoticeable snicker he let out at that, but of course Barnes’ enhanced hearing heard. His head shot round, eyes narrowed suspiciously at Tony’s innocent expression. “Same,” he agreed, smirking.

 

Barnes huffed. "Часто подслушиваешь, Старк?"  _Eavesdrop often on me, Stark?_

 

Tony shrugged. “Non è colpa mia se mi pisci davanti a me tutto il tempo, Barnes” _Not my fault that you bitch in front of me all the time, Barnes_.He had no doubt that he understood his rapid Italian as he stood, moving to the cockpit, smiling to himself as he preserved Barnes’ expression in his memory.

 

Unfortunately Barnes seemed to like Tony’s multilingual abilities, and, over the following weeks, a sort of game developed between them as Barnes would try to see just how many languages Tony could speak, and Tony would attempt to feign ignorance to being fluent in more than the three languages.

 

However, Bucky, the sneaky bastard, realised that if he got to Tony when he was in his lab, deeply immersed in a project, more often than not, Tony would respond, his mind too preoccupied to realise that Barnes was speaking anything but English.

 

So far, he had gotten Tony to speak to him in Japanese, German, Mandarin, Spanish, Hungarian and Turkish, and was currently trying to get him to admit being fluent in Arabic.

 

“'Ahtaj mink 'an tanzur 'iilaa dhiraeiin , satarik.” _I need you to look at my arm, Stark._ When Tony didn’t answer, he tried again. “'Iinah yaleab.” _It’s playing up._

 

Not even sparing him a glance, Tony just shot him a ‘huh?’, tongue sticking out from the corner of his mouth as he worked, holographs hovering all around him. Bucky would never admit it, but he found Tony especially beautiful like this, and maybe, just maybe, had developed this game to see him like this more often. After all, there was only so many times he could play the ‘malfunctioning arm’ card before the genius would get suspicious.

 

“Qult eutl dhiraei,” he sighed. _I said my arm’s malfunctioning._

 

Expecting Tony to respond, perhaps motion him to sit down, or even just offer him a ‘I’ll look at it in a few minutes’, he raised an eyebrow expectantly. What he wasn’t expecting was Tony to freeze, eyes wide and start trembling slightly.

 

Shit.

 

“Stark, are you okay?” He asked, concerned. What had triggered him? He stepped closer, helping him sink to the ground, studying his heaving chest. “Breathe, Tony, breathe,” he said gently, placing a hand on his chest and grabbing on of Tony’s hands and placing it on his own chest. “Breathe with me, that’s it,” he praised as Tony began to suck in a shaky breath in time with him. After what felt like hours the smaller man’s breathing began to sound less painfully wheezy as he began to calm, Bucky’s calm, deep voice bringing him out of his flashback.

 

“I believe that it is best not to speak Arabic in front of the Boss,” came the Friday's voice, the AI managing to sound disapproving.

 

Bucky winced. “Yeah, I realise that now.” Hesitantly, he pulled Tony into his lap as he began to calm, eyes no longer glazed over, and ran his fingers gently through his hair. “You alright?”

 

Tony nodded, still trembling slightly, which made Bucky raise an eyebrow disbelievingly, but didn’t comment. “Sorry, I…” He huffed out a breath, curling up tightly around Bucky’s legs. “Had some bad experiences with that language,” he admitted, shuddering as the memories of harsh Arabic being screamed at him as he desperately tried to suck in air before being thrust back into the water. Of the Arabic informing him of the deaths he had caused by allowing his weapons to fall into the hands of the Ten Rings.

 

Bucky nodded, guessing at the meaning behind his panic attack. “Afghanistan.” Steve had told him briefly about it, about how Tony had been captured by the terrorist organisation. “I’m sorry, Tony, I should have thought,” he apologised softly, guilt churning his stomach. God, would this be the end of their tentative friendship? He hoped not- he admired Stark, and secretly, selfishly, hoped that they could become more one day. He snorted. Serves him right, he should have learnt he could never have _anything_ like that. Not anymore.

 

He was pulled from his thoughts by Tony’s gentle touch on his knee. “Hey, it’s okay, you didn’t know,” he chided softly. “Hell, I didn’t know.” He hadn’t exactly been exposed to much Arabic since Afghanistan, so how could anyone have known how he would react at the sound of it once more?

 

“Now come on, didn’t you say your arm was playing up?”

 

Bucky smiled sadly, fingers still carding through the other man’s hair. “It’s not, I just wanted to see if you knew Arabic,” he admitted, laughing shortly. “At least now I know,” he said glumly.

 

Tony laughed, tilting Bucky’s head to meet his gaze. “You sly dog.”

 

And God, those eyes, sparkling, _trusting_ … Bucky could get lost in them all day if Tony let him. Gently, he cupped his face with his flesh hand, stroking his cheekbone with his thumb. “Looks like I’ll have to make it up to you, then, huh?”

 

Tony grinned playfully. “Oh, yeah? And how do you plan on doing that, big guy?”

 

Bucky smirked. “Why don’t I just show you?” he asked, bringing Tony up so that their faces were level, breathes mingling. Slowly, allowing Tony to pull away if he wanted to, he tilted his head, bringing their lips together gently, lifting Tony to bring him on his knee, so that he was straddling him. Lips moving in tandem, Tony’s hands moved to cup Bucky’s neck, lips curving into a smile against his.

 

Tony was grinning when the kiss broke, bringing his forehead down to touch Bucky’s. “You’re forgiven. Definitely forgiven,” he whispered as Bucky peppered kisses along his entire face, before burying his face into the hollow of his neck, smiling.

 

“Good.” He raised his face to meet Tony’s again, only for it to held back gently by Tony placing a finger on his lips.

 

“Of course, I think I’ll need a bit more for me to forgive you for taking so damn long to kiss me, though,” he drawled mischievously, earning a wicked grin from Bucky.

 

“Oh? I think I know just the thing,” he smirked.

 

And if they walked to the communal kitchen the next morning looking very satisfied, running into a post-morning run Steve who, through gulping down his water, would ask what they had been up to, well. It’s not Steve’s fault the answer he got caused him to spit out his water on his best friend, choking.

 

“I worshiped, Stevie, that’s what I did.”

 

The bastard even winked.

 

And if, since that night, Tony found a special place in his heart for Russian, and had… positive associations with Arabic now, well. Only Bucky needed to know that.

**Author's Note:**

> So....
> 
> You've finished the fic. 
> 
> Lmao. Anyways, thanks for reading guys :) I hope you all enjoyed it!


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